


Dark Cream Week 2021

by AnnaRaeBanana



Series: UTMV Oneshots and Mini Stories [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dreamtale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Undertale Multiverse | UTMV (Undertale), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Corruption, Curses, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29986956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaRaeBanana/pseuds/AnnaRaeBanana
Summary: "If the saying goes that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..."Cross has made some mistakes. This is one of his consequences. He must now make amends.Dream has grown desperate. This is his decision. He must now be the bad guy.Fate has bent and destiny is broken. How will this change things?***WARNING: MIGHT CONTAIN SCENES THAT TUG YOUR HEART, LANGUAGE AND OTHER THINGS.READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
Relationships: Cross & Dream (Undertale), Cross & Killer (Undertale), Cross & Nightmare (Undertale), Cross & X-Tale (Undertale), Cross/Dream (Undertale), Dream & Nightmare (Undertale), Hinted Nightmare/Killer (Undertale), Nightmare & Killer (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: UTMV Oneshots and Mini Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820191
Kudos: 10





	1. 1: Just a Bad Dream; Dying in LA

**The moment you arrived**

**They built you up**

**The sun was in your eyes**

**You couldn't believe it**

* * *

They say that fate determines how you end up in life.

They say that destiny determines what you do in life.

These two things work in harmony with each other, one influencing the other around and around in a never-ending circle. Everyone was touched by them before they were born, the seed for skills necessary to succeed planted in them, waiting to be grown. No matter what happens, nothing pushes you away from what fate and destiny have determined for you.

It does not matter if your actions are good. If you give everything away and help everyone you come across. If you love your friends and family and strangers unconditionally. If you ignore yourself in favor of others.

It does not matter if your actions are bad. If you spit and sneer at everyone around you. If you yell and hit in anger and hate. If you hold your needs in front of everyone else and ignore those who should have just a little bit of attention too.

It simply does not matter.

Your fate and destiny have been determined already.

Why bother changing it?

* * *

**Riches all around**

**You're walking**

**Stars are on the ground**

**You start to believe it**

* * *

Cross was familiar with loss and guilt. When you kill your family and friends, try to delete other worlds, you tend to do so out of pain, driven only by a desperate hope that you can fix what you've done. But you can't. Actions have consequences and the world will not let you go without them. He knows this well, almost too well.

Nothing stops the hurt, though. He's tried. It was still there, stinging through every bandage and healing balm. If it shrunk, it only grew stronger. Other people tried to help as well, but their efforts were also in vain. Guilt comes from the loss that his actions have caused and that guilt causes this pain that will always be there, no matter how small and weak it eventually becomes.

This was his consequence. He's learned to accept that now.

He's learned to walk through the hurt and try and be better.

It was hard, yes. Stumbling and tripping over his feet, hesitant to make any decision lest it be the wrong one and reset his progress. There were many times where he thought that he'd stepped over the line and that they were going to quit on him, leaving him alone again. But they didn't. They stayed, and the stumbling smoothed out to captiousness, the hesitance smoothed into nervousness. He would not be as confident as he once was, not for a while yet, but it was a start.

He was trying. That's all that mattered.

And now he can stand on a hill, look into the blue sky and see the colours surrounding him and he can smile. A small, serene smile made of pure content, pride for himself. He can relax his shoulders and just breathe for a moment or two.

Everything was getting better.

Until he looks to his left and sees yet another consequence to his newer actions, what his pained words snarled in a patient yet hurt smiling face.

Until Dream takes that step off the edge.

* * *

**Every face along the boulevard**

**Is a dreamer just like you**

* * *

_"Don't touch me! Just...just stop trying to help!"_

_"I lost my entire family, my home, and he gave me the hope that I could get it back. Why should I believe that you're not just giving me the exact same false hope?"_

_"Some guardian you are..."_

_"You don't know anything about what I've been through!"_

But Dream did, Cross realized it now.

Dream had lost his family, his home, too, in the blink of an eye. Not only that, but he was put in a position to fight his brother, who had changed so much he might as well've been a stranger, over and over again. The pressure to do that and still be happy, or at least act like it, must've been immense. Cross couldn't begin to imagine it.

They had both lost their family and been hurt in very similar ways.

Cross just wished he realized this sooner.

* * *

**You looked at death in a tarot card**

**And you saw what you had to do**

* * *

Cross didn't try to stop Nightmare as he ran away.

He was focused on the skeleton in pain in front of them. The one who was crying, black sludge spilling down and covering his bones, tinted gold as if in reminder of what it used to be. The one who reached a hand up, to try and stop his brother from leaving, but didn't get far before dropping it to the ground, another pained noise escaping him.

Cross was frozen. He willed his legs to move, instinct in his mind saying to turn and run away too, away from danger, away from him. But he didn't. He stayed put, legs not listening and just watched.

Underneath the instinct was a different kind of pain. It burned instead of stinging and left his soul aching in a way he had never felt before. He was suddenly all too aware of the ring he kept in his pocket, one the skeleton in front of him had turned down. It made a lump grow in his throat and he swallowed, clenching his hands.

Dream hunched over, arms wrapped around himself.

And all at once, Cross realized something.

If his words had had any part in leading up to this...

His legs finally moved and he rushed forward, reaching for Dream, for the one he held so close to his heart, wrapping his arms around him, even though he could not shield him from something within.

If his actions had this consequence, if his consequence had given up on himself, then he would have to be the one that stayed, that brought him back.

He'll do it, or die in the process.

* * *

**But nobody knows you now**

**When you're dying in LA**

**And nobody owes you now**

**When you're dying in LA**

* * *

If fate and destiny have predetermined your story, then what does it matter how you act? If your good or bad, what does it matter? What does it matter if all your actions just bring you back to the path, no matter how far you try and stray from it?

What does anything matter?

* * *

**When you're dying in LA**

* * *

Good can be bad and bad can be good.

This is a fact.

But does it change anything?

What does it matter?

* * *

**When you're dying in LA**

* * *

_"I'm tired."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Why can't you see that I'm just like you?"_

_"Why do we have to be enemies?"_

_"I don't understand."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I'm sorry"_

_"Please...don't leave me alone again..."_

_"I love you."_

* * *

**The power, the power, the power**

**Oh the power, the power, the power**

**Of LA**

* * *

Good is bad and bad is good.

What will change because of this?

* * *

**Nights at the chateau**

**Trapped in your sunset bungalow**

**You couldn't escape it**

* * *

Dream is familiar with emptiness and betrayal. He's watched his home burn, his mother cut in half and his brother metaphorically die. All of these were caused by the villagers, people Dream once believed to be his friend, no matter how harsh they might've been at times. When you see everyone you care about die by the hands of someone you also care about, that is what causes the emptiness.

This emptiness did not mean he didn't feel, no. He felt quite a lot actually. Happiness, grief, calmness, anger...love...he felt them all, some more so than others. They weren't smothered or dulled in any way by the emptiness. No, the emptiness was rather just a numbness he's gained to certain situations. He can't change it.

It was his consequence. He accepts this.

He hasn't accepted fighting his brother nonstop until one of them is dead.

It was disorienting when he started, almost like he was trying to wake on quicksand and every step he took only dragged him further down. Everything was new. He had to learn fast how to shoot a bow, how to dodge, how to block, how to run. How to survive. All while his brother watched and laughed in amusement.

That was what hurt most of all. The amusement. Brothers were supposed to care for each other, help each other stay safe and heal from injuries. They weren't supposed to laugh at you while you barely dodged the tentacle aiming for your soul. They aren't supposed to be trying to kill you at all.

He hated it.

* * *

**Yeah**

* * *

Apples are dangerous. They're enticing. You want to take a bite of it, regardless of the effects it'll do to your body and soul, in what ways it'll warp your mind. They beckon you and lure you in, until all you can think about is what it'll taste like, that savoury bite.

Nightmare wasn't able to resist this temptation.

And if the saying goes that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree...

Then it should only make sense Dream would follow in his footsteps.

* * *

**Drink of paradise**

**They told you put your blood on ice**

**You're not gonna make it**

* * *

Nightmare ran away from him.

The coward.

Dream doesn't understand why. Brothers should support brothers when they decide to become better, to change how the world sees them, to try and prove they can't be all good. They shouldn't run, horror etched on their face as if this wasn't supposed to happen, that he'd made such a terrible mistake.

_"You can't make mistakes, you're positivity! You have to be perfect all the time."_

He runs his hands over each other, taking in the new coating of sludge while he waits for Cross, his lov—subordinate to wake up. It was just like Nightmare's, the same consistency and everything, though his had a golden tint to it, rather than turquoise.

Of course.

Even corrupted, he was still positivity.

* * *

**Every face along the boulevard**

**Is a dreamer just like you**

* * *

He felt stronger. But weaker at the same time.

Was that a thing?

He felt like he could bend people to his will, make them listen just like he wants the entire multiverse too. He can't stop thinking about people crying as he plays out illusion upon illusion in front of them, slowly dwindling their hope and love and any other positivity until it was completely shattered.

And yet, he can't help but get the feeling that there's a shakiness within him. Something is unbalanced, wobbling in his soul. It feels poisoned. He has no clue what it could be. He did everything the right way, he's proven his worth, so everything should be fine now, right?

Everything was fine.

It had to be.

* * *

**You looked at death in a tarot card**

**And you saw what you had to do**

* * *

Cross groaned behind him, making Dream perk up. "...Night...mare?"

Were they really that similar now? Interesting. The thought that his brother and he can never stop being twins makes Dream giggle under his breath as he turns, smiling as Cross's eyes widen.

"Not quite."

* * *

**But nobody knows you now**

**When you're dying in LA**

**And nobody owes you now**

**When you're dying in LA**

* * *

Fate and destiny are predetermined things...but they are not a gift, no.

They are a curse.

Bad gets jealous of good and tries to prove he can be just the same as his counterpart, but only succeeds in cursing himself further. Good is hurt by this and centuries go by.

Good gets desperate, nothing enough anymore, so he tries to prove that he can be just the same as his counterpart, both succeeding and failing. He's cursed himself, too.

Bad runs away, leaving good.

And now they've both strayed from their path.

* * *

**When you're dying in LA**

* * *

Good is bad and bad is good.

Or are they?

How can we tell? Who are we to say?

They will determine that for themselves, who is who.

* * *

**When you're dying in LA**

* * *

"...are you crying?"

"Don't stop."

"It feels amazing!"

* * *

**The power, the power, the power**

**Oh, the power, the power, the power**

* * *

Fate has bent and destiny is broken.

How will this change things?

* * *

**Of LA**


	2. 2: For Old Time's Sake; Mr Loverman

**I'm headed straight for the floor**

**The alcohol served its tour**

* * *

The worst thing about loss, Cross thinks, is the memories you're left with.

The bad ones hurt. They remind you of what you did wrong, what you could've done, should've done. They play with your emotions, making you take on the blame, believing that it was your fault that whatever happened, even if you weren't even there or had no acting part in it. The guilt and pain that comes with these memories hurt, yes, but they also help you to be better, do better when a similar situation comes up again, if it ever does.

But the good memories...they're worse. The bad ones show you what did happen and what could've been avoided; the good ones show what might've happened and all the moments that make you happy about whatever it was that happened. The person or place might be gone forever, so all you now have left are just memories. You can never go to the place, can never hug that person again, say 'I love you' to them...

Memories fade, in time. If years go by, then specific feelings or events might stick, but details will fuzz out until it blurred with some other part of the memory. You might not remember the person or place you miss in their full glory. Just vague assumptions and impressions leftover.

But he wouldn't trade his memories for the world, even if it relieved the hurt.

They forced him to try. Forced him to be better, listen more and be himself more. Most importantly, they kept his family alive and well inside his soul. As long as he has memories of them, they will be with him, his motivation.

* * *

**And it's headed straight for my skin**

**Leaving me daft and dim**

* * *

Some days, memories hurt more. Every little thing can bring one back until you feel so overwhelmed you feel you can't do anything but sit down and relive that memory in full, just do that it's over with.

Cross looks over at Dream.

Some days, the memories torment and never leave you alone, no matter what you try. It's been a few weeks since the apple and still, Cross can't help thinking of before. He can't stop comparing this Dream to the one before, caught in agony over his feelings for both.

Before Dream was like the sunshine. He made Cross smile just thinking about him. They had shared so many laughs together, so many smiles. They had protected each other and helped each other when they were having a hard time. He might've yelled at him, saying things he can't take back now, but they still cared about each other.

And now...

* * *

**I've got this shake in my legs**

**Shaking the thoughts from my head**

* * *

The Dream now—well, he's not even sure if he should be calling him Dream. They were the same person, yes, but they acted so differently that sometimes it felt like they were separate people. Yet, at the same time, they acted so much alike.

The Dream now is like a cloud blocking the sun. Sometimes, it shines through in a way you know is deliberate as it will only go back into hiding later in the day. He smiled too sharply and had crueller jokes. He sometimes gazed at Cross like a predator does to its prey, other times with an unreadable look.

The Dream now was very different from before Dream.

And yet, Cross cared for both.

* * *

**But who put these waves in the door?**

**I crack and out I pour**

* * *

"...so this belonged to him? Such a symbolic thing for you..."

"No, please! Don't break it!"

"Silly. Do you think that would be enough for me? No...with this, I can enjoy your prolonged despair."

And then Dream had smiled and laughed.

And for a minute, Cross was fooled by the actions he held so close to his soul, that he loved so much. They were just like before, the same warmth, the same happiness. It made him tear up just seeing and hearing them.

His love hadn't faded since that one pivotal night.

He didn't even register the crown.

* * *

**I'm Mr. Loverman**

**And I miss my lover, man**

* * *

_Cross watched Dream move around the room, talking with everyone, making sure they were doing well or helping them if they needed it. All the while there was a smile on his face and joy seemed to radiate off of him, lighting up the place._

_"Hey, Cross, stop eyeing your boyfriend and come help me hang these streamers."_

_He turned to face Haven, burrowing his face into his scarf. "Shut up."_

_Haven grinned, a smug look in his eyes. "Didn't deny it this time."_

_"Shut. Up." Cross quickly grabbed the streamers from his friend and started to put them up, ignoring the blush still on his cheeks._

* * *

**I'm Mr. Loverman**

**Oh, and I miss my lover**

* * *

_"It's pretty out, isn't it?" Dream said softly, staring up._

_Cross wasn't looking at the sky._

_Dream's gaze was so soft, like the sunset was the thing in the entire multiverse that he loved the most, that he would do anything for. His eyelights reflected the golden glow of the sky, making them shine even brighter. His smile wasn't as happy as it was at the party, but it felt more real now, calmer and gentler, like he actually felt like that now._

_He was just so...beautiful._

_"Yeah," Cross said, just as softly, still gazing at Dream. "it really is."_

* * *

**The ways in which you talk to me**

**Have me wishin' I were gone**

* * *

"...Boss."

"Oh, Cross! Well? Did you track down my brother?"

"I...I'm sorry, Boss, he escaped. Again. Since Killer helps him, searches became harder. It's my fault."

"Hm. What a pity. But you know what? I don't feel your guilt, regret. You want me to punish you again, don't you?"

"..."

* * *

**The ways that you say my name**

**Have me runnin' on and on**

* * *

Cross coughed, stumbling back as the tentacle—it wasn't real, not really, he knew it wasn't, but it still hurt as if it was real—tore right through his chest. His hand instinctively went to where his soul was, clutching the fabric as the spot stung.

He looked up with blurred vision.

Dream.

His Dream.

His sunshine, one he couldn't bear the thought of not getting back. Tears filled his vision as the illusion—again, it wasn't real, he knew it wasn't real, could never be this easy, but still—smiled and laughed silently, as if nothing was wrong, nothing happened.

_It's not real._

_It's not real._

_It's not real._

But not for the first time, Cross ached to believe it was.

* * *

**Oh, I'm cramping up**

**I'm cramping up**

* * *

"Wake up."

And the spell was broken.

Cross blinked and the sharp, amused grin of Dream replaced the happy one of Sunshine.

The tears silently fell to the ground.

A whimper caught in his throat.

Dream caught the sound. "Shh." His grin widened, leaning forward, amusement in his stance but yet not in his eyes. "It's just a bad dream."

* * *

**But you're cracking up**

**You're cracking up**

* * *

He wants to go back to having picnics at noontime, sitting and relaxing while watching Dream run around with some of an AU's kids; both monster and human, sometimes.

He wants to have Dream ask him to make flower crowns with him, even though he sucks at it and needs the guardian to guide him through each step, delicate hands overlaying his.

He wants to wake up from a nightmare, on the verge of a panic attack, only to have a gentle touch ease his mind back to sleep, replacing bad dreams, memories, with good ones.

He just wants to go back.

He wants Dream back.

* * *

**I'm Mr. Loverman**

**And I miss my lover, man**

**I'm Mr. Loverman**

**Oh, and I miss my lover**

* * *

Sometimes, when Dream gets that unreadable look in his eye, the next day somehow feels lighter. Not in the way that he's growing used to his new position or that Dream has grown any softer, but just that there was something unsaid that lingers, something that Dream knew, based on his frowns.

Cross doesn't understand what's happening on those days, but he feels grateful no matter what.

* * *

**I've shattered now, I'm spilling out**

**Upon this linoleum ground (Mr. Loverman)**

* * *

If the lighter days could be considered good days, then the complete opposite, when the air is heavy enough that Cross just knows something's going to happen, these are the bad days.

On the bad days, Dream is either crueller than usual in his punishments, not talking or doing anything but twist Cross into illusion after illusion or he sends Cross away all day, not letting him stop for a second to catch his breath.

He doesn't know which one is worse.

* * *

**I'm reeling in my brain again**

**Before it can get back to you (Mr. Loverman)**

* * *

There was another type of day that they've only experienced once before.

On those days, Dream avoids Cross and keeps his distance no matter how close he tries to get. Despite all of his harsh actions before, Cross is the most worried these days. He doesn't know what's going on in Dream's head. It could be another illusion for Cross's punishments...or something else, something more dangerous.

On these days, Cross can only sit down away from Dream and watch over him. It further reminds him that he can't afford to give up, that if he does then no one else would be there to save Dream, who has given up on himself.

* * *

**Oh what am I supposed to do without you?**

* * *

Cross loves Dream too much to let the other rot away like that.

He'll save him, make things better.

That's what lovers do for each other.

* * *

**I'm Mr. Loverman**

**And I miss my lover, man (I miss my lover)**

**I'm Mr. Loverman (oh-oh)**

**Oh, and I miss my lover (Mr. Loverman)**

**I'm Mr. Loverman (oh-oh)**

**And I miss my lover, man**

**I'm Mr. Loverman**

**And I miss my lover**


End file.
